An Advent Lament

I love my job. It is fulfilling and rewarding and... well, incredibly, incredibly special. But...

I am exhausted.

Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Exhausted.

We have hit mid-December, and every time I look down at my calendar, a little piece of me cries. You see, my calendar is full. Every single day I have at least one meeting or Christmas luncheon or work activity or pageant practice or... something. On top of all my normal somethings. Every. single. day. in. December.

So, each morning, I sit at my desk and make a to-do list that is about twice as long as the lists I made each day throughout the rest of the year. And each morning, I wonder how I will possibly get everything done, knowing that nothing can be put off until tomorrow because there won't be time then, either. Sleep is becoming optional and caffeine necessary. Physical exhaustion has taken over.

I have a Christmas tree in my office that I tend to stare at when I am feeling just a tad overwhelmed. I let my kids decorate it a few weeks ago, and one of them placed two ornaments on the same branch right at the very top of the tree. The ornaments are words, covered in sparkly glitter, that seem to jump at you when the twinkle lights hit them just right. Joy. Peace. I love these words, as they remind me of what I cherish so much about Christmas. This year, however, it feels that my world is fraught with the antithesis of these words.

Each day, I am in relationship with people who have lost loved ones. Who have lost jobs. Who are anxious that such a loss is coming. Each day, as I am freezing my warmly dressed behind off, I pass by friends out in the snow who have no place to go to get warm or fed. I watch people in stores spend hundreds-- maybe even thousands-- of dollars at the check-out counter but arent willing to drop even a dollar in the bucket as they pass that person ringing a bell.

I attended a beautiful service this Sunday that was designed for those who have lost loved ones. It was an opportunity for people to have a moment of mourning in the midst of a season where we are expected (required?) to be continuously joyful. As I looked around the room and cried with friends who had lost children or spouses or parents this year, as I remembered those loved ones I had lost, as we lit candles in remembrance of them, I couldnt help but to compare the emotions of that moment with the ones we "should" have this time of year. Emotional exhaustion has taken over.

Recently, in our office, a visitor came in and stopped to chat with several of us who were about to eat our lunch. The lady, smiling brightly, bubbled as she said to us, "It must be the most amazing and joyous thing to work in a church at Christmas!" As she walked away, there was an audible groan from all of us. Yes, Advent and Christmas in the church can be magical. When you look at the 100 bikes that have been donated for charity sitting in our commons area. When you prepare to welcome the homeless guests in our gym for a week and hear how excited our church members are to cook them meals. When you have a child ask you if they can be a penguin in the nativity scene of the Christmas pageant. When you have to explain what the words "haste," and "laud" mean to kids or come up with an answer to why we sing Gloria about egg shells.

Perhaps, even more so, when I take a moment to look around and think, "Joy to the World! The Lord is come! Let earth receive her King!" Unfortunately, those moments are few and far between. During the Advent season, we staffers preach and teach about patiently waiting for the coming of Christ. We encourage congregants to be counter-cultural and bask in the glory of God's coming to earth rather than to be swept up in the hustle and bustle of the season. All the while, we do just the opposite. We double our to-do lists, we have extra services, we plan and implement more activities and mission events and christmas concerts and bible studies. We do more visits (the holidays are a lonely time for some) and say "yes" to more things because... well, it's Christmas. We give up our days off and neglect our home/ social lives. We practice poor self care. We worry about end of year budgets and deadlines and paperwork. And sometimes I wonder to myself, "Have I... has the Church... forgotten the meaning of Christmas?"

I dont think we have-- I'm pretty sure Jesus will still end up in our literal and proverbial mangers next week, but I do know this: we are spiritually exhausted. I am spiritually exhausted.

When I lay on my couch at night, staring at the ceiling, thinking of how I have neglected my family and friends and dog, thinking of how those Christmas cards probably wont get sent out, thinking of how my reappearance into the dating world is colored by the fact that I dont actually have time to devote attention to another person, thinking about how all I really want for Christmas is 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep...or, worse, for it just to be "over"...

Well, I am pretty sure this is not what Jesus would do. In fact, I think he would be asking me why the things I do in ministry are preventing me from actually doing ministry. And I would have no good answer. *sigh*